


and all the world will turn to dust

by dancingstars



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, M/M, Magical Realism, brief mentions of Matsukawa, mer!Oikawa meets nature photographer Iwaizumi, mermaid au, merpeople with a little bit of magic, other brief character appearances, will add more tags as it progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8037280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingstars/pseuds/dancingstars
Summary: And when what's left behind is sand and bones, there's beauty in the remaining current.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> whoa second fic. I do write sometimes.
> 
> this was inspired by the Gust game Atelier Shallie, and I love merkawa. or mer AUs in general, and I've had this in my head for so long, I couldn't leave the idea untouched. I plan to continue this for a few chapters, but no estimation yet how many. really nervous about posting this, but also pretty excited!
> 
> hopefully my worldbuilding isn't too vague but still leaves room for imagination.
> 
> a huge thanks to [Dia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/magic) and [Rae](http://archiveofourown.org/users/oraeryu) for being such wonderful betas!

 

◤☵◥

 

Hues of red and purple paint the sky above towering peaks, shades of black and grey challenging to overtake them as they sprawl over seemingly endless waters, creeping in like a blanket spread high overhead and ready to drift down to settle soundlessly below. Water kisses sheer cliffsides and rocky outcrops, their layers and remnants of old beaches telling a story of ages past. Dotting the panorama of cliffsides are small holes, worn around the edges and sheltering seabirds. Beneath the watery surface, tucked behind a mirage of coral and flora and invisible to the naked eye, deep caves home another kind of life settling in for the night.

A long tunnel, sloping slightly upward and just roomy enough for someone to swim through comfortably leads to an irregularly-shaped single room, built slightly above the water line at high tide. The rock within is carved in various shapes, from a low table to nooks in the walls bearing various natural trinkets and tools, to a circular pool that takes up the majority of the space in the middle, its depth no longer than the average height of a door and wide enough in any direction for anyone to stretch out without touching two opposite edges. The mouth of it meets the tunnel, the water fed at high tide. Four beds have been shaped in the rock around the pool, leaving them half-submerged. A moderately-sized hole sits in the low ceiling, cutting through dense rock like a vein and ushering in fresh air from above, the birds housing at the entrance providing a symphony of calls every evening they seek refuge.

“Tell me about when the surface was as high as the mountains again,” a young voice demands, excitable and clear. “The ones near us.”

A woman’s voice chides in response, clear like the last, but warmer and mature. “You've heard that story more than enough times to know it never reached half that high. How are you going to tell it properly when you're an adult and proper storyteller if you don't stop exaggerating?” A long, webbed hand reaches out and touches one of a few strings of glowing sea plants surrounding the interior, the light fading away slowly after. The sound of a heavy weight shifting on wet stone echoes dully in the small room, a light splash following as the end of a lengthy tail drapes over the edge of the floor into the warm pool.

“Then you'll just have to tell it to me again.” A knowing smirk paints a young face, large eyes giving away that the child is sure he has cornered his mother.

Eyes that mirror his narrow, framed by loose threads of matching brunette whose curls escaped being tied back with their comrades. The older woman—though still possessing plenty of youthful features—responds to her son's smirk in kind as she leans closer, one elbow propping up on reddish stone as her chin rests on her palm. She looks down her nose at the young one in his bed. “Convince me you deserve a reward after not cleaning the pool today.”

He falters, seemingly surprised at his own guilt. It lasts only a moment, however, before being washed away as though it never happened under a natural, assured smile and waving hands. “But I _did_ clean the tunnel. I meant to start with that and make my way up, but I worked so much that by the time I was done, everyone was already coming home with today's catch! I'll clean it tomorrow, promise! I'll scrub it and change the water perfectly, and it'll make up for not doing it today!”

There's a brief moment of silence as she studies the youth, his fins beginning to swish anxiously in the water. There's no doubt that he did what he said, even though she has strong suspicions that it didn't take nearly as long as claimed, even accounting for him taking extra free time beforehand. There's a light sigh, and she moves her hand from her chin to ruffle her son's hair gently. “All right. Because you promised.” She squints a little as she leans in, tone shifting to something smooth and assertive, the undertone of a grin pulling at the corners of her lips and creases of her eyes. “But if you don't keep it, I'm not telling you another story for twenty tides.”

The boy sits up straight, the idea so preposterous to him that the shock is clear on his face. “Twenty?! That's–”

“No arguing, love. Take it or leave it. But with such a promise, there's nothing for you to worry about anyway, right?” She's caught him and he knows it. She smoothes his curls down as he leans back to his resting spot, every inch of his features resisting an open pout.

“Yes, Mother.”

The older of the two shifts her smile into a fond one, volume dropping. “Good. Now get some rest, Tooru. You have a busy morning.”

 

◣☷◢

 

“And where are you off to in such a hurry?” Age-worn, suntanned hands wipe themselves clean of potting soil as a petite woman stands, flower clipper temporarily set amidst vibrantly-colored grass.

A toothy smile—although missing some teeth—flashes back, small fingers gripped around a camera too big for them to hold comfortably. The verdant ground beneath half-tied, dirt-stained sneakers reflects in eyes brimming with excitement. “I'm gonna go take lots of pictures today! It's finally so sunny, Mom. Please? May I??”

Dark, bobbed hair bounces lightly with a laugh. “I wasn't about to stop you. Go have fun, don't stray too far. I'll have a lunch waiting for you when you come back.” There's hardly a pause between the last of her words and the sounds of footsteps pounding over the still-damp earth. “Oh, and Hajime,” Iwaizumi Akiko calls out after her young son. He half-turns back, momentum interrupted, his energy already out in the field beyond the gate. She gestures to her collarbone, smiling. “That camera has a strap for a reason. Keep it on, now. Your father won’t buy you a new one if you break that one.”

Comprehension dawns on tanned and freckled features, that same grin back again as the boy drops the camera strap over spiked hair to rest around the back of his neck. “Thanks, Mom. Bye!”

And he's off, racing across tall, yellow grass, headed for a nearby copse, stride never faltering.

 

◣☷◢

 

Hot water sits cooling next to a stove, a cup of coffee nestled on the only clear space remaining on a desk filled with papers, pictures, magazines, old and new sketchbooks alike, old rolls of film, and CDs full of digital photography. The room is illuminated by light filtering through the window and the nearly burnt out bulb of the only desk lamp in the small study. Iwaizumi Hajime, now 26, waits in his humble 2LDK, hand unmoving on the handle of his mug, eyes blinking only as they really need to as they focus intently on the silver flip phone resting on some papers. Birds chirp close to his window, but he doesn't hear them. He's too aware of the silence within the room and the slightly elevated pulse of his own heart.

Ten minutes later, the small screen lights up and the device begins to vibrate. His hand flies for it, forgetting that it was resting on the mug as it’s nearly dragged off of the desk, a small curse leaving him as a few splashes scald his skin. Iwaizumi pushes the cup back a little and grabs the phone with his free hand, resting it between his ear and shoulder as he uses his sleeve to dab up the drops of coffee on his papers. “Hello, this is Iwaizumi.”

“ _Good morning, Iwaizumi-san,_ ” a familiar voice rings through. A new but fast friend at the company he just got hired into, professional but relaxed. “ _I know I'm a little late, sorry about that. Good news or bad news first?_ ” Iwaizumi’s blood runs cold for only a split moment, though his expression remains unchanged.

“Don't worry about it, Hanamaki-san. Let's go with the bad news.”

“ _Bad news is that I was late calling you because I spilled coffee all over my shirt. Matsukawa has an extra, soooo I'm waiting for him while he gets it. It's kinda rough playing gopher and then spilling someone else's order all over yourself on your way back in. The intern called out today, I volunteered..._ ” A loud sigh. _“Half of my arm is red._ ”

Iwaizumi registers this with an almost flat look, the adrenaline in his veins cooling quickly. Today seemed to be coffee's day of revenge. “You're okay, though, right?”

“ _Yeah, yeah, I'm good._ ” There's a laugh on the other end of the line, apology in his coworker's voice when he speaks again. “ _Now that I've made sure you're perfectly awake, time for the good news. Listen carefully, okay?_ ”

“Mm.” Iwaizumi waits.

“ _You got the assignment you wanted, but it changed a little. You aren't leaving the country, but you also don't need to get a bunch of vaccines. Boss moved you to the Sendai area, and there's a place near the coast where you get to stay on your own._ ”

He takes this in all at once, but still finds some confusion in this turn of events. “So I'm not leaving, but the location changed so drastically? Sorry, but how is that the same assignment?”

“ _I don't know all the details, but something about something falling through with the magazine we were going to publish it in. Dates weren't right or something, like I said, I don't really know all of the details. Not to spoil the surprise, but we got lucky with a deal with_ _ERA_ _. You'll get the details sent to you soon. Surprise! Your time to get your photos internationally recognized is here!_ ”

The photographer blanks. _Now_ it's too much to take in at once. A deal with _ERA_? And he was still chosen, just like that?

“ _Iwaizumi-san? Hello?_ ”

“Aa. Sorry. I'm here.” He takes a quiet sip of coffee, trying to ground himself. “Sendai, huh. Haven't been there in a long time.”

“ _You'll have a great time, I'm sure. They want you to focus on some of the quieter places near the area. Really show how the ocean is looking locally now. Boss says he wants everything, but you'll get all that in the email and briefing._ ”

Everything. The word hangs in his mind heavily, so used to having to photograph only the beautiful and positive. To avoid the obvious evidence that the oceans were disappearing at an alarming rate, had been for hundreds of years, and no one had a concrete answer why. Science managed to explain almost everything but why the oceans were shrinking, when it didn't seem like something that should have taken this long to explain, especially when everything depended on it. As far as anyone could guess, even if an answer came now, it was probably too late.

Capturing images of this very thing was something Iwaizumi Hajime had wanted to do for a decade, something he'd only been able to explore briefly in his spare time or in an attempt at freelance. Something that no companies or organizations wanted from him until now.

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me know, Hanamaki-san. Good luck with your shirt. Talk to you later.”

“ _Thanks,_ ” the deep voice on the other end draws out. “ _Take care, have fun. See you soon._ ”

 _Everything, huh._ Iwaizumi takes his nearly-full cup to the sink and rinses it out, going to change for a run. Fresh air would do him some good, he figures, especially before figuring out how to time his trip with visiting his mom near the area. His mind was too full with too many things and he needed to truly breathe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But Iwaizumi Hajime is always curious and never satisfied.

 

◣☷◢

 

The wind bites at Iwaizumi’s cheeks and nose, turning them an irritated shade of pink. His brows have been stuck in a perpetual furrow for the last hour, shoulders hunched up and arms wrapped around his knees. Despite growing up in the area, despite travelling to much more frigid places, he had forgotten how cold it could still be in Sendai in spring. Iwaizumi was also fairly tolerant of chilly weather, but even his natural defenses were being lowered by spending the early morning on a cliff overlooking the ocean with no natural barriers to cut the windy atmosphere.

His camera, safe in the case next to him, remains untouched as he watches the fog slowly start to burn away under the rising sun. He isn't entirely sure what brought him out here, except that he'd arrived the afternoon before and had spent the rest of his day setting up the cabin the company placed him in, and woke up that morning with an insatiable urge to walk to the ocean nearby. He had figured it would be a good opportunity to take some pictures to re-familiarize himself with the area, but since sitting down, all he's wanted to do is simply watch the waves and the fog and the birds. He's thankful for the quietness of the area, his cabin located on the outskirts of Sendai proper, a city much smaller than history books describe it, but a city nonetheless. In the distance, he can make out the silhouettes of two people jogging along the cliffside path, but other than them, he hasn't seen anyone else, yet.

Iwaizumi’s stomach growls, and he remembers that he had forgone a proper breakfast for a slice of toast. Picking up his camera bag, he stands and gives a last look to the sea ahead before turning back to make his return to his temporary residence.

**____________**

The cabin is more spacious than expected, two floors and an open floorplan. Though the upstairs area is less than half the size of the first storey and most of it is taken up by the master bedroom, there's a sitting area overlooking the floor below with an excellent view through tall-paned windows.

It's in this space that the young photographer sits now, empty breakfast plate forgotten on the dining table below. The coffee table before him already strewn with papers and photographs, he had wasted little time in settling in. A few pictures have been set aside in a neat stack, and he ponders over the ones remaining. A couple of quiet moments pass, and Iwaizumi moves two to the top of the pile: an old and slightly-worn picture he took on this very coast in his youth, and a picture of him and his mother the last time he'd visited a few months earlier. Weather-worn hands pick up the stack, shuffling the contents together as he stands and heads downstairs to a cork board between the kitchen and the dining area, just above a desk with a phone and some miscellaneous office items. He begins pinning the photos up, arranging them in no particular order, save for the one he took as a child; that goes in the middle, secured carefully through a single pinhole in the top middle.

Once finished, Iwaizumi leans his palms on the desk, gaze fixated on the old picture. The scene is during sunset, clouds in the sky, fog rolling in in the distance, seascape. Nothing remarkable and not show-worthy, save for one feature that has always captivated Iwaizumi Hajime: a young boy close to his age peeking out at him from behind a rock, his spot protected from energetic waves by other rocky outcrops. Large eyes peer into the camera, the shot taken quickly, though not discreetly enough to keep from startling the boy.  Iwaizumi had heard plenty of stories about merfolk and their mistrust towards humans, and he'd noticed his watcher out of the corner of his eye and been careful not to look over as he readied his camera, pointing it at the ocean innocuously before quickly turning it and snapping a picture at the outcrop. The youth there startled—and confirmed, to Iwaizumi's relief, that they were not a two-legged person caught in the tide—and dove away into the water, long tail glistening where sunlight hit it. Young Iwaizumi had tried to take shots of the rapid retreat, but none of them came out. He realized later when looking through them that not only was the merboy’s movement probably too fast, but the camera-carrying child had been running after him on instinct alone, not even registering the sand and rocks beneath his feet.

Since then, Iwaizumi had taken a particular interest in merfolk, though not enough to go out of his way trying to track one down beyond keeping a watchful eye when he was by the ocean. They were a rare people, strained relations with humanity from centuries before keeping most of them from ever wanting to communicate with those who lived on land, preferring instead to escape away to where they couldn't be followed. In the past, when information about them was scarce, there were a few stories of divers following them to their cliffside homes, but those stories most often ended in injury or worse to at least one party, and strict laws were quickly established regarding acceptable behavior towards the sea dwellers.

Nowadays, every once in awhile, a picture will pop up of some rogue merperson clearly willingly posing for the camera, with or without a human by their side. Most shots, however, are undefined and messy, always the work of someone happening to spot one of the elusive people by chance.

Then there was the occasional story of an unusual friendship struck between human and mer, but they never lasted, often ending without warning. The same went for any time one of them reached out in understanding to a scientist: information was shared between them for a brief period of time before the merperson disappeared and never made contact again. Yet somehow, this aspect of human/mer relationships was almost never brought up, Iwaizumi found over time. It seemed that everyone who did establish positive, prolonged contact with them all complained of the same, sudden end, but almost no one was asking why. The occasional social media thread seemed to be under the general consensus that merfolk were simply flighty and skittish, perhaps bored, perhaps just a mystery that humans would never understand.

He sighs, pushing back from the desk and focusing his eyes on the photo for a few more moments. Whatever the case may be, it wasn't going to do his work for him, and it wasn't his job to find out. The day was continuing without him, and it was time for him to start his assignment. Photograph the effects of the receding ocean, think about merfolk later.

 

◣☷◢

 

The afternoon of his third day is going well. The sun is out, and the water is surprisingly warm through his wetsuit, despite season and location. The marine flora and fauna are lit well, and there's an abundance of things to photograph underwater: clusters of plant life, sea creatures foraging for food, coral living and coral dead, the colorful variations of rock... The photographer had spent the last two days capturing the sights above the surface, intent to get that out of the way before going into the ocean, knowing very well that once there, he wouldn't want to divert his attentions elsewhere.

He thinks again how thankful he is for this assignment. The media was either nonstop gloom about Earth's oceans, or unnervingly silent for short periods of time. The ecosystem was in a very delicate balance, species of marine-dependent life heavily endangered or going extinct at an alarming rate. People were, understandably, always talking about it, but paradoxically, they largely sought after only what was beautiful in photography, preferring not to be reminded of the death and uncertainty surrounding them in this particular media form. Of course, it wasn't all that nature photography had become, but it was certainly the most popular genre when it came to the oceans.

This escape mechanism beloved by the public shaped Iwaizumi's career, his options limited until now. He had always been fascinated by how the oceans and their surroundings continued to change, only able to pursue capturing them in what little free time he had to spend by the shores. He knew it was a grim subject, and he never had many people to share his interest with, but he was okay with that.

He's interrupted by a sudden movement to his left, and he goes to look in its direction, but his turn speed is slow in the water, even with the weight of the air tank on his back lifted by buoyancy. Though only a few short seconds have passed, it's gone, no trace of its presence left. _A fish_ , he thinks, though he has the impression that the disturbance he sensed was from something much larger than the wildlife that should be in this area. He thinks to ignore it and turn back to his work, but Iwaizumi Hajime is always curious and never satisfied, and that curiosity drives him to the rocky formation the movement disappeared behind. The journey a few meters away is slow, his hopes set on some unusual sighting he can capture in his camera. It was common enough for larger fish to be spotted closer to the surface than they belonged, but they were typically wary of large creatures like humans.

He suddenly slows, realizing that his better judgment may have been eclipsed by his high hopes. What if this was a shark? You don't chase sharks! Still, he gets close to the rocks, one hand holding him steady against them as he curves his neck to look around the corner.

Unusual, indeed. Though not nearly as big of a find as he was expecting, a large longface emperor fish swims along the rocks. The sight is somewhat unusual, the reef structures small and scattered about, and while it isn't at all strange for an adult to be roaming about on its own, he's never personally seen it. Iwaizumi lifts his camera and takes a number of shots, afraid to spook the speedy fish, before attempting to venture out and get better angles. True to his intuition, he only gets a few in before it dashes off, and he can only hope he got something decent.

Turning back to where he came from, Iwaizumi comes face to face with a human countenance, and his breath catches in his throat for a quick moment before he startles. The face isn't quite human, and it isn't quite as close to him as he feels it is, instead another three or so meters away, next to the rocks he came from. The diver releases a proper breath, eyes fixed on the figure before him. He's slowly becoming aware of how hard his heart is pounding.

Large eyes stare at him, their pupils eerily blown. Short brown hair moves in the gentle current of the water, framing the pale, almost bluish— _or is it greenish_ , Iwaizumi wonders—skin of the one whose attentions are equally unwavering from watching him, eyes unblinking. Fin-like, semi-translucent ears stick out through the waves of brunet, and he has no doubts that his every movement is being keenly monitored. The merperson in front of him is still in ways a human could never be in the water, and as he slowly regains some inner composure, the young photographer finds only slight more unease in wanting to let his eyes wander as he does in keeping their gazes locked. He tells himself to only let his peripheral vision do the looking, but it's barely a few moments before his eyes are lowering.

Dark lips sit in contrast against the pale skin (which, Iwaizumi notes, might only look so pale in the underwater lighting), and below the merman's face, a long, elegant neck leads to strong shoulders and a wide chest—wide in a way that doesn't quite suit the rest of his proportions, but still manages to look natural, he thinks. From this distance, it's difficult to tell, but Iwaizumi guesses they look around the same age.

As the photographer does a quick take of his general frame, he finds that most of the other's lines follow suit in being long and elegant, more so than he's ever seen in any pictures. His sights lower to where light catches the long, slowly swishing tail, dark but colorful scales shimmering in a way Iwaizumi finds almost hypnotic.

It's then that he realizes how very _not_ short his gander was, and a small panic overtakes him as his eyes shoot back up to the mer’s face.

Those dark eyes are more intense than they had been before, and Iwaizumi can't read them. In fact, all of the ocean dweller's body language seems tense, and the diver can't help the way his muscles tighten, too.

Then from unnerving stillness, the merperson spins around quickly and takes off towards the open sea, not unlike the longface emperor, and certainly faster than Iwaizumi could ever go. As his nerves die down at the hasty retreat, he can't fight the sinking feeling occurring simultaneously in his chest and his stomach. Iwaizumi spends a few moments there, staring off in the direction the mer swam in, before deciding to call a close to his day. After an encounter like that, he knows he wouldn't be able to focus, and his air tank was getting low, as it was. He heads back in the direction of the beach, thoughts racing and feeling empty all at once, heart still heavy in his chest.

In the back of his thoughts, he can't help but remember how very long the other was. Quite a bit longer than him, he guesses, if they were put side by side. And though the mer was of a much leaner build than Iwaizumi, he gets the uneasy feeling that beyond being at a disadvantage in the water, if their encounter had gone south, there was no question in who would win in a strength of power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeey, thanks for sticking with me! or joining me, if that's the case. I know it took forever for me to get this thing out.
> 
> I decided to leave Oikawa's point of view until next chapter, which I hope to get to y'all soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa takes note of a particular scent in the air when he inhales, thinking it smells a little like the approach of rain.

◤☵◥

 

“I heard you didn't help with yesterday's catch.”

Tooru’s pause is only a blink in time, small pieces of sea glass glowing faintly beneath his fingertips while they rest against the palm of his other hand. He resumes his work, slowly but effortlessly melding them together through the gift his people possess, shades of light greens and blues mixing together like watercolor as they form a crescent. From it, a few long spikes protrude, growing downward and rounding at the tips. “I had other things to do,” he responds lightly, tilting his head as he holds up his work for examination. Teeth wide and evenly spaced, swirls of color pleasing, spine thick for a comfortable grip—overall, an excellent comb, he reasons. Turning with a smile and presenting the gift, he adds, “Like getting the glass to make something useful to my beautiful mother, cursed with luxurious curls that deserve only the best of care.” With a wink, the comb is passed to Oikawa Noriko, who looks at her son and the comb respectively with equal parts suspicion and joy.

“This is wonderful, but Ru-chan…” Her voice takes on a tone of impending admonishment. “My comb is fine. Why would you skip helping the hunting party for this?”

“‘Skip’ is such a harsh word, Mother. You’d think I didn’t want to go out and be helpful and responsible!” His teeth practically shine in the dim light as he grins in a way Noriko perceives as suspiciously widely, his posture relaxed and charm in full swing.

“Then what would _you_ call it?”

His answer is immediate, brimming with confidence. “Of course, nothing short of being responsible and helpful in _other_ ways!”

Noriko’s eyes narrow in on her son in his flippancy, showing clearly her disapproval. “Tooru,” she starts firmly, and he flinches in somewhat dramatic effect. His given name was really only reserved between them for when he was in some measure of moral trouble. “Our wants and needs come second. You can’t keep ditching your responsibilities to the colony like this.”

Tooru’s expression of gaiety falls, replaced by strongly furrowed brows and his bottom lip jutted out in a pout. With a tone to match, he counters, “No one’s complaining, right? I’m not doing it all the time.”

She sighs, eyes closing in exasperation. “ _I’m_ complaining. If this becomes a habit…”

Offering no respite as she trails off, his easygoing, cheerful attitude reemerges on cue. “And why ever would it do that? I’m not one for bad habits, Mother. And I _want_ to contribute for the good of all of us. When was the last time I slacked off,” he grins. “Really.”

Noriko has a thing or two to say in rebuke to his ‘bad habits’ defense, but she decides to let it go. Humming another sigh and setting down the comb, her palms turn upward in a shrug of defeat as she relents. “All right, all right. But if I catch you slacking again, you’re in much bigger trouble. You’re an adult now, but don’t think you can get away without any consequences. Remember what happened to Akira-kun?”

Jumping on the opportunity to switch the subject, Tooru exclaims, “Of course I do! I was the one who helped him out of that mess, don’t _you_ remember~?” His lilt is teasing, smirk all but tattooed on his lips. The younger mer dons a thoughtful expression then, looking up at nothing in particular. “But you know, Kunimi-chan really is a hard worker when he wants to be. You just have to encourage him, come at him differently. He just wasn’t being given the tasks best suited to him, but everything’s good now, right? And unlike Kunimi-chan,” he rolls on, gesturing vaguely as he follows his mother to go about the chore of putting dinner together. “I don’t have any such difference in strengths or weaknesses, and I’m committed to my job regardless of my personal feelings. There’s no need for such a comparison.”

The rest of their night continues normally, and much later, as he drifts to sleep with the warm waters of his bed blanketing his tail and lapping up his abdomen in comfortable silence, save for the sound of water splashing up the tunnel below, he’s filled with relief that his perceptive mother didn’t prod him any further about his activities the previous day. If it had been discovered that he had been so close to a human, he certainly would have had an entirely different slew of problems to deal with than catching fish.

 

◤☵◥

 

Bright yellow flashes in the rays of light illuminating the scene under the waves as a school of bluestripe snapper pivot and race through the water. A group of four mer follow a short distance behind in a spread-out V formation, the muscles in their tails pushing them forward quickly in a display of power. Their leader, a particularly large mer by any standard, guides the pursuit dauntlessly, exerting energy with expert efficiency as they herd their prey exactly where they want them. He begins to slow only slightly, the companions to his sides coming forward to form a semicircle as they continue forward.

The school is caught by surprise as two additional hunters—Oikawa Tooru on the left, and his companion, Semi Eita, on the right—quickly rise from below on either side, and a shadow cast from a figure far enough above that it hadn’t been previously deemed a threat descends. The moment in which the fish have any pause to act on escape options is too brief, the school’s harmony thoroughly disrupted. Their leader’s fin-like ears pull slightly forward from their previous position quite flat and thin against his head, and light shines through their lavender translucence as they flare open in signal. The small figure above, with a single shock of blond amongst his dark hair, immediately launches a bound and weighted object to Oikawa and their leader with unnatural speed and power, a glow dissipating from his hand while remaining on the weights as they propel through the water with little resistance. As it nears its targets with accuracy, the bundle separates out, revealing a large net. The two mer catch it and don’t waste a single moment in passing the edges along the group, and with the kind of timing borne only of long hours of practice together, the six dive down swiftly and bind the net together, their catch secure within. The maneuver had lasted only a few short moments, and, rising back up with two members pulling their prize behind them by a thin rope, they break the surface and release the air left in their lungs and inhale.

Though their lungs, quite larger than a human’s, were easily able to handle long periods underwater even with the exertion of swimming, a chase always demanded them to push their limits. For this reason, hunting teams required not only speed of their party members, but also the stamina to last in case their routing did not go as planned, and the strength to persevere should trouble with one of their own predators arise during a hunt. The only one not completely subject to these guidelines was the net caster, whose other job it was to go ahead of the others and wait around the designated area of capture. The two waylays, as they were called, also went on ahead, but somewhat lower in depth and only a handful of meters ahead of their intended catch.

The net caster speaks up first, having been there before the others. “I think that’s the smoothest run we’ve ever had!” He’s pushed back the contrasting locks of his hair out of his face, large eyes gleaming with excitement. No one verbally agrees or disagrees, still relishing in the fresh air afforded to them on the surface. “C’mon, don’t you think? You do, yeah?”

One of two blonds who had followed second in their formation responds first, Saeko, showing a grin of agreement. She ruffles her short hair as she speaks, voice strong despite her waning but still present exhaustion. “Sure, sure, it was great, but we’re like that all the time these days. I know you’re praising us, but don’t write our usual work off so easy, Noya.”

The former looks about to defend his point, when the other blond, his voice much quieter and gruffer, interjects, “We suck. Groups like Kuroo’s are catching bigger things than shitty snapper.” His comment is met with a mixture of responses, from eye-rolling, to sighing, to a lone snicker. Semi rebuffs him first:

“You need to fix that attitude problem of yours, Kyoutani. If you’re so displeased but don’t have anything to offer but insults, how can we expect you to put the kind of energy into this that we need?”

Kyoutani sneers. “ _Huh_? The hell you think I’ve been doing? I don’t see you keeping up with Ushijima, I see you and Oikawa taking the easy route and–”

“Hey, hey,” another fairly large mer interrupts melodically, bright yellow eyes darting to look between the two as messy strands of silver and black hang like seaweed across his face without a care. “Come on, we’re all doing our part. We’d never catch anything without them!”

“Bokutan’s right, but more importantly,” Oikawa lilts as he swims closer to Kyoutani, sights sharpened on him despite the pleasant smile he wears. “Kuroo’s group—or any of the others, for that matter—don’t have anything on us.” Kyoutani’s expression grows even more agitated, but Oikawa presses on, ignoring any of his impending complaints. “Who cares if they catch one big thing? Fish like snapper aren’t particularly small, and we catch enough to feed everyone. Does one big catch feed everyone?”

“Nooo~” Nishinoya teases, splashing some water in Kyoutani’s direction.

“Whatever,” he growls, turning to look at Ushijima. “Can we go now?”

Ushijima Wakatoshi’s eyes had settled somewhere on the distance in the direction of their home beneath the cliffs, unconcerned with the usual post-catch banterings. With barely a look over his shoulder in acknowledgment, he utters a short grunt of affirmation, somewhat eager to get back, himself. His ears tuck back and he takes a deep breath before returning below the surface, the rest of their crew following suit. Oikawa takes note of a particular scent in the air when he inhales, thinking it smells a little like the approach of rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I always going to update once every six months, I just don't know.
> 
> In all seriousness tho, I hope I still have some of you, and I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! I know it's a little slow and more world-buildy than plot-heavy, but beginning next chapter things are really going to start moving forward. I've been reading a lot, and reading always gives me the writing itch.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me. You give me the motivation to keep writing this AU I love so much.


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